


Just Forget the World

by GrimmStormborn



Category: American Actor RPF, Captain America (Movies), Chris Evans - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Accident, Anxiety, But there's fluff to, Chris is a meatball, Evans family - Freeform, F/M, Hating hospitals, Hospital, I'm warning you, and we love him for it, bad collision, car crash, eventually, it can be pretty sad, loss of a parent, pretty fluffy in the end, we love chris evans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6634246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimmStormborn/pseuds/GrimmStormborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“If I lay here…If I just lay here…Would you lie with me, and just forget the world?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I crossed my arms across my chest. “No.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He pouted, and I rolled my eyes playfully. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Forget what we’re told…Before we get too old…Show me a garden, that’s bursting into liiiiife…” he continued as I grabbed my purse. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Bye, Evans, I love you, see ya later!” I called back, and shut the door behind me.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic here. My first ever fanfic on Chris Evans, actually. Please be gentle! And please leave comments ^^
> 
> It can be pretty sad, yes. Heartbreaking, yes. But I promise there's a part 2 with fluff!
> 
> Trigger Warning: Anxiety. Loss of a Parent.

**Just Forget the World**

**Disclaimer 1: I hope to God this doesn't happen to my ray of sunshine that is The Meatball. Just a simple piece born out of my vivid and angsty imagination.**

**Disclaimer 2: Song featured is 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol.**

 

I slammed on the car brake as hard as I could as I pulled up at the hospital’s carpark. Without a care about how I had parked it, I jumped out of the car, barely remembering to lock it, and bolted into the hospital.

My natural instinct screamed at me to run back, of course. To get back in the car and race back home, slip under the duvet covers, cuddle with Chris.

Kinda hard to do that, seeing as how he was the reason I was running into a place I hated the most in the world.

“Christopher Robert Evans,” I breathlessly gasped at the Service Desk, but before the nurse on duty could answer me, I heard my name, and turned around to see Scott calling me over. “He’s here,” he croaked out. As I neared Chris’ little brother, I saw his red-rimmed eyes. Oh God. This did not look good. “Chris…I got a call, he was in an accident, Chris, what happened to Chris?” I asked, the questions tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them as Scott let her to the private rooms of the hospital, probably where they had admitted Chris to avoid any intrusion from media.

“He…He’s..Coma. He’s in coma,” came Scott’s soft reply, and I felt my heart stop beating for a second. I was vaguely aware that Scott was explaining what had happened, something about a speeding car that rammed into Chris’, head on collision… I could barely take in anything. I looked up, all of Chris’ family in the holding room, and felt the blood drain from my face. Scott wasn’t joking (not that he would make such a horrible joke out of his brother’s current situation, of course). Everyone seemed to be holding it together, but it was obvious that at any given moment, they’d break down.

“Myra? Myra…” I heard my name being called again, and saw Lisa standing before me, her hand gently holding my arms. “You need to sit down,” she gently said, sniffling, but I shook my head. “I need to see him. Need to see. Now,” was all I could choke out, walking towards the door that I assumed led me to Chris. Someone reached out to stop me, Carly, probably, possibly concerned of how I might react when I see him, but out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Lisa stop her, so I walked on, and gently pushed open the door.

The steady sound of beeps and the horrible spell of antiseptic, that was what hit me first. Ignoring the painful tug at my heart, one that brought me back to when I was seven and walking towards a bed just like this, but one that held my mother, instead, came rushing back to me, but I pressed on. I had to see him. And I did. I saw my beloved boyfriend of four years, his head wrapped in a bandage, bruises on his face, his left arm in a cast and the tubes, oh, so many of them, all over him. My heart twisted in pain, imagining just how much of pain he must have felt when the crash happened. How much of pain he must be feeling right now.

I gently sat at the edge of the bed, on his left, and reached out to very gently caress his cheek. “Hey…Hey, meatball,” I whispered, my body shaking hard in an effort not to sob, even though the tears weren’t stopping. “I know you must be in a lot of pain, and I know it’s kinda selfish of me, but can you please, please, wake up? I promise,” stopping to bite down on my lower lip, to keep the screaming contained till I was alone, “I promise I will make sure the doctor gives you enough painkillers to numb your pain. I promise I will be here to distract you from all of it. I promise I will bring Tom fucking Brady in here to help you with any physical therapy you might need, I will do it Chris, but you need to wake up, okay?” I finished, my voice barely above a whisper all this while. “Please. I cannot do this again. I don’t have it in me to do it again.”

If he were awake and listening, he’d know I was referring to the time I lost my mom when I was seven. In a car crash. After which she had been declared brain dead.

The universe was playing a sick joke on me and years from that moment I would still question what I had done so wrong in my life to deserve that.

I was eventually asked to leave the room by a nurse, who insisted that too much of contact might disrupt the healing process that might further complicate the coma. I had wanted to question her just how much more complicated a fucking coma can get, seeing as how Chris wasn’t responding at all, but I didn’t have the energy to snap. I could barely talk. So I leaned in to kiss Chris cheek softly, before I got up and slowly made my way out of the room.

This time, my dad had also joined the Evans in the private waiting room. My dad was right there, holding his arm out, and I fell into his embrace, shaking and sobbing. Without hesitation, he rushed me away, into another room (man, these hospitals have expanded in the years that I had avoided them like the plague). My shaking and unrelenting sobs eventually turned into a rather ugly anxiety attack, but dad was right there, holding me, helping me tide through it. It was all a twisted nostalgic moment for us, really. Mom being taken off the ventilation machine. Her heartbeat ceasing. Me freaking out and having my first anxiety attack ever.

Dear Twisted Universe, fuck you.

It eventually got better. I began to breath better. I had lost what energy I had left, so I just slumped against the seat, my dad trying not to hover, but rather, just stayed by me, holding my hand. Reminding me that all hope was not lost.

But what if it was? What if I lose another person I love so, very dearly? What would have been the last thing that we had ever done, that I had ever said to him?

_\--_

_“Christopher Robert Evans, let me go!” I screeched, half amused, half mad, as Chris refused to let go of his grip on my waist. “I’m late, I’m so fucking laaaate!” I whined, struggling against him._

_“Myra, you promised you’d sleep in today. With me. I’m not letting you go,” he insisted, and I turned to give him a glare._

_“I forgot I have a meeting with my team today, it’s about that new role in Game of Thrones! Babe pleeeeease, you know how much I love that show, how much I’ve always wanted to be a part of it, and you know I hate being late. I am an asshole for breaking a promise to you, but I swear, we can have sex all night when I’m back. I promise,” I solemnly said, and Chris’ grumpy frown slowly turned into a grin._

_“Okay, I will hold you to that. And that pizza and the corny romantic movie we were supposed to watch a week ago, that, too,” he added, and I sighed._

_“There’s no pleasing you, meatball.”_

_I shrieked and ran to the bathroom as he tried to grab me again, just barely escaping him._

_Almost an hour later, in which I had to hear Chris sing every other song the radio played as I got ready, I was ready to leave._

_“Bye, baby,” I said, leaning in to peck his lips. He returned the peck, and instead of saying goodbye, continued singing, in hopes that I would abandon all plans and slip into bed with him again._

_“If I lay here…If I just lay here…Would you lie with me, and just forget the world?”_

_I crossed my arms across my chest. “No.” He pouted, and I rolled my eyes playfully._

_“Forget what we’re told…Before we get too old…Show me a garden, that’s bursting into liiiiife…” he continued as I grabbed my purse._

_“Bye, Evans, I love you, see ya later!” I called back, and shut the door behind me._

_\--_

“I should’ve stayed.”

“Myra?”

“I should’ve stayed,” I whisper again, unaware of who I was talking to. It took me a moment to focus on the form next to me, and I recognized Lisa in the place of my father.

I gave her a small, miserable smile. I couldn’t imagine what the poor woman was going through. Chris was her baby boy. It must have felt horrible, for her to see him like that. I wanted to tell her all of this, to tell her that I was here and tell her Chris was going to be just fine. But all I could do was reach out and squeeze her hand gently, sharing the grief.

“He’s going to be okay, y’know. He’s a tough one, my boy,” Lisa quietly said. I could barely nod my head.

“He’s tough, definitely.” A pause. “I thought my mom was tough, too.”

I felt Lisa’s hand squeeze mine once again, placing her other hand on top, as well. I shook my head.

“It’s just…I cannot do it again, you know? It took me such a long time to even feel anything after she was gone, and if I lose him now, I just…I don’t see myself coming back. It’s so scary. It’s just so scary how much I love him,” I finally say, eyes only where her hands were holding mine.

“Oh, Myra,” I heard Lisa choke a little, and looked up at her. She was grieving just as badly, and I wanted to stop talking. I’d only make it worse. But I couldn’t help it. I needed to talk and damn me if Lisa Evans wasn’t one hell of a listener.

“He’s a good man, Lisa. I don’t know how you did it, but he is such a good man. I’m not saying he’s flawless, but he is so genuine, he gives from his heart, he…he’s a meatball of love,” I say, and both of us chuckled lightly at that. “He could wake up right now and tell me he doesn’t love me anymore, and I’d be okay with that,” I shrugged, unsure of what prompted me to say that. “He could tell me he never wanted to see me again, and I’d be okay with that. It would break my heart a million times over if he said those things, but I'd accept it. I just want him to live. To stay alive. To live the life he has always wanted. A marriage, a house full of kids, a crazy family. I want all of that with him, so badly, but the bottom line is, _I want him to have that all, even if it isn’t with me_. He needs to stay alive for that, you know? He needs to be here, full of life and zest and goofiness and just _here_. He deserves that. He needs to get out of the fucking coma, Lisa. He needs –“ and then I lost what little control I had gained over the past few minutes as I break down again, crumbling against Lisa, who held me close and rocked gently, soothing me through her tears.

“I should’ve stayed,” I repeated in vain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm really sorry this took so long, but my job was sucking the living soul out of me. But here it is! And thank you all for the comments, kudos, and hits! I truly appreciate it! Hope you guys enjoy this one as well :)

Eight weeks. That was how long Chris took to finally get it together and wake up.

Eight long, arduous weeks.

I wasn’t exactly sure how I survived those eight weeks. It was filled with anxiety, guilt, regret, and just existing. I never talked much. I barely ate or slept. Hell, I rarely left the hospital. More often than not, I curled up on the tiny chair next to Chris, the sound of the beeping the only soothing factor that put me to sleep, oddly enough. It meant that Chris was alive, breathing. That made me feel better, if only a little.

The evening that he woke up, I had just gone back home to freshen up and change my clothes, because my best friend had literally dragged me out of the hospital against my will. I had rushed back to the hospital after a call from Scott, rushing me to come back but saying nothing more, only to find all of the Evans crying.

“What? What is it, what?!” I asked them, worried something had happened. Without a word, Lisa gave me a gentle push towards the room Chris was in.

I almost bolted back out for fear of what I might find inside, but I gritted my teeth and walked in. Whatever it was, I’d pull through this.

Or at least, I could try.

The door shut behind me as I walked in, and sounds of the machines were on as usual, but there was one big, noticeable change.

My sweet, sweet Christopher was up, and he was (trying to) smile at me.

“Chris,” was all I could whisper as I made my way slowly to him. I sat next to him, he lifted his good arm up a little, and without a word, I buried my face in his chest, shaking silently.

I have to admit, I have a lot of dreams in life. I’m driven. I’m ambitious. I have a long list of things I have still yet to achieve in life. But right then, his arms around me when I thought that would never happen again, it was as if nothing mattered anymore. It’s okay if I didn’t get that role I really wanted. It’s okay if I never won an award. It’s really okay, as long as someone I loved so much was alive and kicking and had their arms around me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I shook my head, struggling to breath yet not making a sound still, and unceremoniously wiped my face. I was pissed that Chris hadn’t escaped the accident, and I knew it was ridiculous of me to think so, but right then, I was just glad he was awake. I pulled away and took a long look at him, the bruises, the tubes, everything.

“Does it still hurt a lot?” I quietly asked.

He decided to shake his head, but I could tell from the grimace that he was very much in pain.

“Liar,” I whispered, and leaned in to give him a soft kiss on his lips.

“Keep doing that and I’ll be healed in no time,” Chris continued, giving me that idiotic grin of his. Have I ever mentioned how much I loved that idiotic grin? Because I do. My idiot and his idiotic grin.

Again, without another word, I leaned in and curled up next to him, making sure not to hurt him more, and took a deep shaky breath.

“Please don’t leave me,” was all I could whisper, and I felt his arm tighten ever so lightly around me.

\--

The next few weeks were focused on, and only on, Chris getting better. I took time off from work, knowing it might possibly damage might chances of getting the role I really wanted in Game of Thrones…but I didn’t want to be one of those people. You know. Placing work over everything and everyone else. Besides, there was no way I was parting Chris till he got better.

Eventually, almost a month later, the doctor deemed Chris fit to return home. His mother mostly stayed over to be with him as well, and so did most of his family, and honestly, I didn’t mind that one bit. Nothing made Chris happier than being with his family.

Well, maybe Disney movies might have an edge over that…

The point was, Chris was making an amazing recovery, and I was glad it was happening. But deep down, something had shifted. Perhaps it was the memory of being in the hospital with a loved one in a critical condition again, or the fact that I had seen Chris, _my_ Chris, the one I thought was almost invincible, unresponsive for eight weeks straight – I was sad. The event had triggered so many of the memories I didn’t want in the first place, and while I was usually able to work my life around these memories I had buried within me, this time, they were brimming on the surface, making me constantly queasy and anxious. Not just with the past memories, but the future. I had seen how delicate life could be, twice now. What if it happened again? What if something goes wrong and Chris had to get back to the hospital? What ifs. So many of them.

Sometimes I’d wander off to the backyard and quietly watch the sunset, the sounds of Chris’ nephews and niece playing with him back in the house soothing me. Other times I would curl up in the seat I love by the window, pretending to me immersed in the book I was reading, but truly trying to calm my deeply unsettling mind.

I’d catch Chris looking at me in these moments, his eyes curious, but never truly asking me anything. Not when we were alone, not when I curled next to him lazily while watching the tv, not even after intense love-making sessions when we just cuddle and zone out contently. I didn’t know why, but we never talked about the moments where I was there but just _wasn’t._ It didn’t bother me, of course. We were happy, he was getting better, all was good. But there was this unknown space that lingered between us, something that I came to realize slowly, but didn’t look into it.

One evening, while Lisa and Chris’ younger sister were preparing a simple dinner in the house, I was once again at the backyard, on the bench, staring at the sunset quietly. I felt a movement next to me, and turned to find Chris sitting next to me. I smiled at him, and he returned the smile. I shifted so I was pressed against him a little, and went back to staring at the sky.

“You know I love you, right?”

I turned to Chris again, a little surprised, but smiling all the same. “I know, baby. Of course I do,” I whisper. “And I love you.”

He didn’t say anything. He simply took a deep breath, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and kissed my forehead gently. And then he wrapped his arm around me and stared at the same sky I had been staring at.

I was beyond confused for a moment, so I kept looking at him. When it was clear that he wasn’t saying anything more, my gaze returned to my favourite spot, and I curled up against him. We sat there for hours, till Lisa called us back into the house for dinner.

\--

“Dude. How in the world is _this_ beach so empty?”

I looked around the area, eyes wide at the complete lack of human beings. Granted, when Chris told me about a day out at the beach, I wasn’t expecting a big crowd. But I wasn’t exactly expecting it to be this empty, either.

“What can I say, I’m good at picking the right time,” Chris boasted with a shrug, and I rolled my eyes. “Alright Evans, nose down,” I chuckled. My hand finding his, our fingers intertwined as we strolled across the beach.

It’s been eight months since Chris had woken up from his coma, and I couldn’t be happier with the way Chris’ body had healed fast.

I mean, believe it or not, within a record time, the man was pulling off a full night of sex.

Not that I minded that, of course. It was quite the opposite of a problem, really.

But I was also equally glad that he wasn’t wincing every time he moved, or kept having to eat the same porridge every day that boosted his system, bringing it back to how it was before the accident. He smiled more, he was relaxed, and he definitely got better, and I was thankful for that.

Now, eight months later, he was able to walk without a limp, his left arm completely healed, his bruises still present but no longer painful. He had come a long way from his coma.

“Whoa. Look at that,” I suddenly said, pointing out the sunset at the far end of the horizon. It was getting darker, but hues or red, orange and pink were still illuminating the sky – a sight I loved from our backyard, but was now a thousand times more amazing on the beach. “That’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“You’re beautiful.”

I turned to look at him, a smile tugging at the corner of my lip. “Corny,” I playfully said, poking his arm.

With a guffaw, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “You like it when I’m corny, Colton. Admit it.”

I only shrug innocently as we continue walking, grinning to myself.

We spent almost an hour in the beach, walking along the coast, letting the waves wash our feet. We finally settled down on a sand dune, his head on my lap. My fingers ran through his hair leisurely, and the last time I had looked down, his eyes were closed. I had assumed that he was napping, and I simply enjoyed the scene before me.

Once again, my unsettling thoughts plagued me, but I have to admit that they had decreased considerably over the months. Chris had not gone into any sort of relapse, it was a steady progress, and that relaxed me a little. With a deep sigh, I looked down again, ready to kiss his forehead just because I wanted to. Instead of his sleeping form, I found his bright blue eyes staring at me intently, and I smiled. “I thought I might have to haul your gigantic sleeping self back to the car all by myself,” I joked, caressing his cheek as I chuckled. He smiled softly, and gently grabbed my hand just as they stopped on his cheek.

“I’d never stop loving you.”

The words warmed my heart, but I still shot him a slightly puzzled look. Where was this coming from?

“I’d never ask you to leave me.”

“Chris?” He was beginning to scare me a little.

“A marriage. A house full of kids. A crazy family. If I can’t have them with you, then I don’t want them at all.”

_Oh._

“Chris…” I started, suddenly feeling a lump forming in my throat, making it hard to get any words out at all.

He slowly sat up, hand hands holding mine now, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Mom told me everything. She wouldn’t have, but...I was down. You were constantly sad, even after I was back home, and I began doubting if you even wanted to stay. I thought you were going to leave me. And well, mom told me everything you told her,” he explained.

I bit my lip. I wasn’t ashamed nor angry that Lisa had told him everything. I never had anything to hide from Chris. But it did upset me that my behaviour had caused him to think that I was going to leave him. I squeezed his hands, sighing softly.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you, instead of moping about then pretending to be alright. I just…seeing you in the hospital, it had scared me so much, and that just sucks,” I finally told him, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry I made you think that way. I’d never leave you. You know too much, and frankly, no other man would stand the mess that I am,” I added, to lighten the mood.

It worked. He snorted.

He reached out and tugged a lock of jet black hair behind my ear. “I _do_ know too much. And you’re _my_ mess, no other man can have you even if they wanted to,” he declared, and I laughed.

He leaned in then, and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. Have I ever mentioned how good of a kisser he was? Because damn, can that man kiss my worries away.

He kept pecking my lips gently, over and over, never leaving more than an inch from my face. “Do you know why I even left our apartment that day?” he whispered against my lips, then brushed his lips against mine again.

“No,” I whispered, trying my best to focus on his words, but failing badly.

Need. More. Kisses. Dammit.

“I was on my way to get a little something for you.” Kiss. “Something small.” Kiss. “But I hope you like it.” Kiss.

You’d understand why I took a moment to answer him. I was kinda preoccupied with his lips.

“Unless it’s a fossilized bug from the Middle Ages, I don’t see why I’d dislike it,” I whisper, my focus still completely on his lips, my eyes closed.

He pulled away, evident from the way my lips no longer felt his, and I opened my eyes with all intentions to pull him back for a kiss…and then stopped breathing at all.

In between us, in the small space, was a brilliant cut diamond ring, with two smaller sets of emerald stones on either sides of the diamond, sparkling away even in the dim evening light.

“Chris…” I gasped, looking at the ring, and then at him.

“I had a whole plan, Myra. A small game that would lead you to all of your favourite places, and then finally here at this beach where we had our first date. And I’d get down on one knee and propose and our families would be here and….” He paused and laughed quietly. “Apparently, I had planned _too_ much. So preoccupied with what I would do when I got the ring, that I hadn’t even seen the car coming right at me.”

I swallow heavily, the tears in my eyes spilling over.

“I got the ring as soon as I could walk again. I’d have given this to you right after that, but I just…I wasn’t sure if you wanted me anymore. Until I had that long talk with mom, of course.” He paused, one hand reaching out to wipe my tears away.

“So, here we are, with a completely different journey to the beach than I had planned, but here nonetheless,” he said, and we chuckled. “My question remains the same, though. Myra Kathleen Colton, will you do me the honour of being my wife?” he whispered.

By then, I could barely see him. I was literally ugly weeping.

“Yes, _yes!_ ” I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his shoulder, still crying, my tears probably wetting his shirt.

It’s just not me if I don’t ruin one thing or another while having a moment.

I could hear his genuine laughter ringing in my ear as he held me tight, kissing the side of my head. Pulling away, he kissed me right smack on the lips, ignoring my running nose and wet face. Oh Chris.

We pulled away moments later, and he slowly slid the beautiful ring on my left ring finger. “You are one tasteful man,” I finally say, admiring the ring.

“Why, thank you.” He was beaming with pride.

We spent hours there, even after it got dark. We talked about _everything_ – from how to even start to plan a wedding, on our families, about how he had nervously asked my father for my hand, on the idea of getting a pet cat (“Myra, _seriously,_ I will not let you name our pet cat Steve Rogers”), and how his nephew was so attached to the dog we already had…

“Chris, it’s _late._ We need to go,” I said hours later as I chuckled, getting on my feet to dust the sand off my jeans.

“But Myraa….I don’t wanna,” he whined, and I shook my head.

“Alright big baby, we really should go,” I insist, trying to ignore his puppy eyes as he lay there.

“If I lay here…If I just lay here, would you lie with me, and just forget the world?” he sang softly, his twinkling blue eyes looking up at me.

A small smile crept unto my lips, and I sighed softly as I sat back down. “Find another song to woo me already,” I whispered playfully as he laughed.

So I stayed there with him, my head on his chest, hearing the rhythmic beating of his heart, deeply content.

And I forgot the rest of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay or Nay? Do let me know in the comments! I might go further with this pair, but one-shots on the different parts of their lives. For now, this is it. Do let me know if you wanna read more of Chris/Myra!
> 
> Thank you, all you lovely people out there! Have a beautiful day ahead!

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 coming up soon! Please let me know what you think of this chapter :)


End file.
